Trashed
by Gonna Marry A CSI
Summary: Welcome to Catherines annual 'Get Trashed' party. Tequila, lamp romance and naked Brass! what else could u want? first fic - pls review! WIP
1. Who are you?

**Trashed**

Disclaimer – I don't own the CSI crew. One day I will, but not yet.

Um, okay, this thought just got stuck in my head, damm my dirty mind. Everyone is kinda out of character. The team is still together, well, coz, otherwise the story really doesn't make much sense. This is just the first chapter, no real pairings as of yet, but I'll hopefully get to that. This is the first story I've posted so please review, let me know, if its rotten, the writing style is awful, whatever – please please please?

_**Who are you?**_

"Purple rooster attack"! Sara looked up from the table to watch bemused, as Greg, with a bottle of tequila in each hand and a sparkly halo on his head, bolted past her through the kitchen, squawking madly, only to trip on the edge of the carpet, stumble, fly through the air and flip headfirst over the couch, landing with an undignified clunk as head met ground. She winced, and languorously swayed over to the couch, kneeling on it and hanging her head over the back to check on the now madly clucking Greg Sanders. Satisfied he wasn't damaged (well, any more so than usual), she deftly reached down and plucked the miraculously undamaged bottle of tequila from his outstretched hand. She took a long swig, ignoring his rambling protests, feeling the drink burn a path down her throat. Sara climbed to her feet (rather hard to do while slightly trashed on Catherine's aubergine plush sofa), and stepped onto the coffee table, shimmying to the music that was pumping through the house. God, how she loved Catherine's annual 'get trashed' party. The whole team looked forward to the yearly release of tensions that inevitably arose after dealing with death all day. One night, no rules and no repercussions – whatever happens at the party stays at the party, never to be alluded to again. Last years party was a hoot, she remembered, fuzzily recalling Brass doing a nudie run into the neighbours yard, Warrick getting into a punch up with the lawn statues (final score- Statues 1, Warrick 0), Catherine and Greg steaming it up in the pool, and Nick….. well, it was true what they say, everything IS bigger in Texas. She emphasised this point in her internal dialogue by grinning and doing a little twirl, sending tequila spraying everywhere, and sliding right off the coffee table and onto Nick, who had just entered the room.

"Who are you? Whoo, hoo, whoo, hoo. Who are you? Hoo, hoo hoo…, THUMP!" Nicks singing was interrupted by an angel falling from the sky. At least he thought it was an angel. He lifted his head to focus on the woman on top of him as from behind the couch, Greg took over, warbling "I really wanna know, c'mon tell me who are you? you you aaah you". Nick smiled at his angel, dressed in a lacy red corset and black leather pants. Damm. "Hey Sar" he drawled, privately hoping for a repeat of last years party action. "Nicky" she giggled drunkenly, "You look pretty. I do too, but I spilt tequila on me, this is Catherine's… corsle…. corste…corstlet…. Catherine's top, she's gonna be mad". Nick nodded seriously, "You don't want to get Catherine mad. It'd be terrible, there might even be spanking involved". They both contemplated this speculatively for a moment, ignoring Greg in the background, who, having finished Nick's song, was now serenading the lamp with Marvin Gaye's 'Sexual Healing', complete with hip thrusts. Nick thought about Sara's predicament, his handsome brow furrowing, until suddenly, his face cleared and he shouted jubilantly "I know what to do!" Nick leant forward and sucked at the damp tequila stain on the front of Sara's shirt, his hands wrapping around her slender waist, worshipping her body with his gaze. She responded with a muted "one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, FLOOR!" before sliding off Nicks lap to land gracelessly on the fluffy carpet, hiccupping madly. Nick blinked, shrugged good-naturedly, snagged the tequila bottle and stood up, and leaving Greg crooning to the lamp in the corner and Sara chewing on the shagpile carpeting, and headed out into the backyard, where he was met with a truly horrifying sight.


	2. Kiss the bride

**Trashed 2**

_**Kiss the bride.**_

Brass. Naked Brass. Naked Brass standing proudly on a lawn chair, holding a toilet brush aloft like the statue of liberty. Catherine stood on the ground near him, tilting her head and nodding like an aspiring fashion designer before carefully wrapping his legs in toilet paper. Warrick was sitting on the ground next to her, fashioning what looked like a veil from toilet paper. "Welcome to America" Brass grandly called to Nick. "Can I please see your passport?". Hearing this, Warrick looked up from his handiwork and did a double take at the homicide chief standing above him, "Dude, what is up with THAT?". Brass looked down defensively, viewing his major shrinkage, before barking at Warrick "Its cold okay!" Warrick returned to his veil-making duties, but not before muttering "Its never THAT cold". Catherine shushed them both and finished wrapping Brass's lower half in toilet paper, finishing with a fancy bow that thankfully covered his privates. Having run out of toilet paper, she was about to order Warrick inside when Sara skipped out onto the path, oddly enough carrying another roll. "Dude" said Warrick, nodding at Sara, who threw Catherine the roll of toilet paper and took a flying leap onto Warrick. "Oof" the air escaped from his lungs as he struggled to stay upright. Ignoring them both, Catherine fashioned a toilet paper boob tube for Brass, leaving his shoulders and protruding belly exposed. Brass preened, twirled and spun around in his t.p. wedding dress, before winking at Warrick. "Do you think I look pretty?" Sara leapt up and growled at Brass –"Stay away from my man, bitch!". Warrick blinked. "Dude".

Catherine leant forward and hugged Brass around the knees, "I think you're beautiful" she told him sincerely, before snagging the communal tequila bottle and pouring it down her throat. Brass fluttered his eyelashes coquettishly and began to wiggle his hips and sing "Isn't she lovely" to himself in a falsetto tone. Catherine passed Brass his bouquet (the only remaining roll of paper artfully attached to his toilet brush), and ducked as Nick began throwing handfuls of confetti (corn chips) onto the blushing bride. Brass smiled and sniffed at his bouquet. Catherine climbed onto the chair with Brass, wobbling precariously as she balanced the veil on his head. Nick raised his hands to the heavens and solemnly intoned – "Dearly beloved – we are gathered today to join Brass and Catherine in holy matrimony. Flower girl, do you have the communal wine?" he glanced at Warrick, who was nonchalantly draining the tequila bottle. Sara nudged Warrick in the ribs as Catherine grabbed at the bottle, causing him to snort in surprise, spluttering tequila all over Brass's dress. Brass squealed "my dress, my beautiful dress!" and burst into noisy tears. Nick realised that the tequila had caused Brass's dress to go transparent and squeezed his violated eyes shut, hurriedly running through the rest of the vows. Greg wandered out of the house dragging his precious lamp, lighting a cigarette. Catherine leaned menacingly down towards Warrick, swinging the tequila bottle at his head, screaming "YOU'VE RUINED OUR WEDDING DAY! YOU MONSTER!". Sara leapt towards Warrick to save him from the wrath of Catherine, tackling him under the arms and accidentally knocking the wobbly chair Cath and Brass were standing on. The chair jolted backwards, bumping into Greg who automatically put both hands up to protect himself. The cigarette touched Brass's tequila soaked dress, Nick screamed "YOU MAY NOW KISS THE BRIDE!", Catherine abandoned ship, Sara landed on Warrick, Brass's dress went up with a whoosh. As the chair fell the bride threw his bouquet which flew across the yard, solidly connecting with someone's head. In the ensuing chaos, no-one noticed the newcomer rub his head, pick up the toilet brush in confusion and turn towards the group. The deep voice though, was unmistakeable as it echoed across the yard- "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"


	3. Cucumber lice

Hey guys thankyou soooo much for your reviews, you freakin rock! Sorry it's taken so long to update! Oh, and some people have commented about the punctuation – I'm Australian and I think we use British punctuation? Having said that, there are also probably a whole lot of errors that are entirely my own fault – please let me know and I'll try to fix them.

Grissom. Sara blinked, suddenly sobering up waaaay to quickly. What the hell was Grissom doing here? From behind Grissom emerged a startled Sofia from dayshift, as well as Ecklie, holding a plate of what looked suspiciously like cucumber sandwiches. What the…? Sara scrambled to her feet, accidentally stepping on Warrick's stomach as she turned to face the newcomers. The others followed her movements, except for Nick who was discreetly trying to put out the smouldering Brass by slapping at his crotch with the lampshade.

Greg gulped. "Uh oh, it's the fuzz" he whispered to Warrick. Greg dropped the cigarette he was holding and hid the bottle of booze behind his back, whistling loudly in an attempt to look casual.

"Gil!" Catherine said with forced joviality. "So great you could make it! And you brought friends! That's just………..umm………. great!" Nick grabbed Catherine by the arm and dragged her aside – "You invited Grissom?"

"I invite him every year! I didn't think he'd actually show up!" she hissed back. Greg piped in "This isn't good! It's bad, very bad". Sara joined the huddle "So what do we do?" She looked beseechingly at Nick.

Nick began to mutter to himself "Chill man, think, just think. They're all relying on you. What do we do? What would Superman do?" Nick pondered this for several seconds before shouting "I've got it! The others watched in disbelief as he executed a near-perfect leap over a lawn chair, followed by an Alias-style barrel-roll to the side before escaping into the house.

Several seconds of confused silence was broken only by Greg's whispered "Hey guys? I don't think he's coming back". The girls rolled their eyes and turned back to where Grissom, Sofia and Ecklie were standing. Grissom was staring at them all in something akin to abject horror, Ecklie was leering at Sara's outfit with his hands suspiciously in his pockets, and Sofia was staring at Warrick, who had begun a conversation with one of Catherine's angel statues on the lawn. Catherine gave a bright smile "Anyone want a drink?"

"Good god, yes" replied Brass emphatically, hobbling towards the kitchen, naked butt shining in the moonlight. The team followed warily.

Nick crouched in the corner of Catherine's bedroom, breathing heavily. He looked at himself in the wall mirror and blinked. 'Okay Lois, its time to save the day. Now where did I leave my suit?' He began to rummage through Catherine's closet, grabbing out items to create his superman outfit. He dressed added the final touch and peered in the mirror. Perfect. He frowned, then spied Catherine's reading glasses on the bench. He put them on, added Catherine's robe, then mimed a woman's squeaky voice 'Oh, somebody help! Superman, where are you?' Nick smiled a dashing smile, yanked off the glasses and the robe covering his outfit, smoothed his hair back with gel and yelled "I'm coming to save you m'am!" He tried this several more times until he was satisfied. Superman was here, and he would save the day.

"So, what is in this anyway Catherine?" Grissom asked, words slurring slightly. Grissom felt slightly woozy after only three, no; make that four glasses of Catherine's special concoction. "Oh, it's just a fruit punch I whipped up, hardly any alcohol in it at all" she crossed her fingers behind her back, not counting the bottle of tequila she had added earlier. Warrick looked up, and nodded in agreement, failing to mention the bottles he and Greg had poured in.

Brass smiled from his perch on the freezer, holding a pack of frozen peas against his scorched genitals, "So, Sofia, you and Ecklie doing the deed?" Sofia snorted alcohol and broke into a coughing fit, shaking her head and spluttering like a sprinkler system gone mad. "Eeeeww! Ecklie has crabs! No way!"

"I heard that" called Ecklie from the living room, "And it's not crabs, its lice, and it's nothing to be ashamed of." The group digested this in silence.

"Besides" Sofia purred, "I've only got eyes for one man". She swayed her way across the room and wrapped her arms around Grissom.

Grissom blinked, a little startled by the woman suddenly hanging from his neck, and tilted away from her. Sara calmly walked over and delivered a hard kick to Sofia's shin. "Oww" she squealed. "You bitch!"

"Oops", Sara smiled sunnily. "Foot slipped."

Ecklie wandered in, leering obviously at Sara and noted in his greasy voice- "Aren't we feisty tonight?"

"Shut up Ecklie" she snapped.

Warrick stepped closer to Ecklie, his voice low and threatening "Cool it man, or I'll take you out the back and me and the statues will teach you a lesson." He picked up an umbrella from the hall and advanced on Ecklie.

Ecklie swallowed hard, armed himself with the plate of sandwiches, contemplating using them as weapons.

The tension was broken by Greg's shrill screech from the lounge room "Ohmigod, Cath you've got Twister! We gotta play, everybody get in here now!"

Brass smiled and hopped off the freezer, heading towards the bathroom. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Like a Fox

Thankyou guys for reviewing – its so wonderful and really helps soooo much to keep writing!

**Lemon Jelly** – I hope you're proud of me – 2 chapters in 24 hours! For this I expect at least a little Warrick-Sara car sex!

**CSIKennedy** -Thanks! Yeah, Ecklie does seem like the kind of person who would have lice, or crabs  – this wasn't supposed to be in here but my son got lice at daycare so at the moment it's a lice frenzy here. Stupid lice!

Disclaimer – I own it all – I am Jerry Bruckheimer in disguise-  I'm making a million dollars an episode and plan to kill off Sofia and stage a giant orgy in season 6. So there.

Like a fox

Brass stumbled into the bathroom, smacking his head against the doorframe before swinging through. He stumbled awkwardly, and quickly checked to see if anyone was watching. Phew. No-one there. He still had his dignity. Brass closed and locked the door, before wandering in and doing his business. He finished up and strolled over to the basin to wash up. He looked up to evaluate his reflection in the mirror; "Okay, hair is good, teeth are great, physique……. damm impressive as always". Jim smiled and turned on his side, sucking in his gut and flexing his muscles in the mirror. 'Yes, Jim Brass you are one sexy beast, as always. Fabulous'. He turned and reached for the door handle, contemplating treating his friends to his karaoke version of 'Blue Suede Shoes', always a crowd pleaser. He turned the doorknob and …. It came off in his hand. Oh, crap. Tentatively he called out "Guys? Hello, can anyone hear me?" He could hear loud music playing from the kitchen, masking any attempt he was making. Oh, great. He sighed, looking around for other escape routes. Looks like he was stuck for a while. Oh, well, at least he had a drink. He hopped into the bath with his bottle of vodka and relaxed, grabbing Catherine's blow-up pillow to rest his head on. He saw a shower cap and put that on too. When in a bathtub in Rome…

"Twister, Twister, TWISTER!"

The gang turned at the sound of Greg's exuberant yell.

Sophia sighed loudly "I'm not playing that! Twister is for children!" She flicked her hair, almost falling off the bar stool she had perched on.

Warrick clapped his hands in glee before shouting "I'm first! I'm first", and chasing Greg into the lounge. As Grissom, Sara, Ecklie and Catherine followed, Sophia lean forward and hissed "I hope you break your neck Sidle". Sara turned around with a growl, ready to leap, but Greg grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and charged into the lounge. Catherine, feeling the need to defend her friend (?) raised an eyebrow and licked her lips, and added sultrily, "Don't worry. Sara's flexible. I should know. Very bendy".

"Yeah, bendy like a fox!" yelled Sara triumphantly from the hallway, ruining the moment and confusing everyone. Catherine sighed and followed the others into the lounge.

"Oh, I want you to want me, I need you to need me" warbled Brass, gulping heartily from the vodka. He was so tired of being stuck in the bathroom. He should be out there, partying it up with his 'homies'. Brass clunked his head against the back of the bath to make his point. It made a nice noise. Brass had an idea, and began to smack his head against the tiles, spelling out S. O.S. in drunken Morse code. A particularly hard O later, he was off with the fairies, unconscious and drooling in Catherine's tub.

"What do you mean; you don't know how to play? Everyone knows how to play Twister!" Warrick stared in horror at Grissom. "You freak!"

"It's not my fault!" protested Grissom. "I guess my mother simply never saw the point of buying me a game that involved people climbing over one another for no good reason!".

Grissom thought for several seconds before adding "Dammit mom!".

Ecklie sniggered "Poor Gil, always the social outcast."

"Shut up Ecklie" ordered Sara.

"But I.."

"Shut up Ecklie" growled Catherine.

I was just saying…………….

Shut up Ecklie!" yelled Warrick.

Greg piped in "Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to the sport of Kings, the game of Titans – alcohol essential, underwear optional. Lets play Twister!"


	5. Purple Worms

Purple worms

Disclaimer – I own the world. That's right. All of it. Even you………………

Little bit of swearing in this chapter 

Sophia was sitting in the kitchen alone, mainlining a bottle of rum, messily chewing a cucumber sandwich, and stewing. 'Damm them all. Stupid CSI's. They think they're soooo smart. Well, they're not….. smart, that is. Stupid CSI's. Well, except for Grissom, he's dreamy.' She sighed, a piece of chewed cucumber falling from her open mouth. She quickly swept it onto the carpet and resumed her plotting. She looked up as Nick barrelled into the kitchen, her mouth dropping open at his attire. He froze, momentarily both grossed out and fascinated by the masticated cucumber staining her shirt.

"Left foot blue" Greg intoned solemnly. Warrick swung his foot over easily, while Catherine struggled to slide her foot under his. Sara slid hers across, 'accidentally' giving Ecklie a kick that made him lose his balance and fall face-first onto the ground.

"Whoops" she smiled insincerely, "You really should be more careful."

"You're out!" crowed Grissom unnecessarily, elbowing Conrad as he struggled to regain his footing.

"No fair! She tripped me! I demand a recount" yelled Ecklie in frustration.

"SHUT UP ECKLIE!" yelled the room in unison. He moved to the side and watched glowering as the remaining four adjusted and waited for the next call. "Right hand purple" shrieked Greg over-excitedly, relishing his role as grand Spinmaster.

Grissom struggled, his arm shaking as he struggled to lift his hand to find the purple circle. Purple circle. Purple circle? "Greg, I don't see any purple circles!"

"Keep looking" Warrick offered wisely, trying to kick Grissom's foot out from under him. Sara sniggered, occupied trying to distract Catherine by biting into her ankle. Success! Catherine began to slide, taking Warrick's legs out from under him, both squawking madly as they ended up in a pile on the mat. They writhed underneath Sara and Gil's outstretched bodies, suddenly uninterested in Twister, not minding the audience in the least. Sara smiled, three down, one to go, then she would be the ultimate champion. Muahahaha. She smirked at Grissom, who looked back a little fearfully.

"Okay ladies" trilled Greg, earning a glare from the boss, "Right foot Green". Sara twisted backwards into a graceful arch, placing her hand firmly on green circle closest to Gil. He blinked, realising the only way to reach the remaining circle not blocked by Catherine and Warrick was straight over the top of one very lovely and quite drunk Miss Sara Sidle.

"C'mon Griss, no stalling" encouraged Catherine from under Warrick on the map. He gritted his teeth and willed his body to cooperate as he arched over her, bodies pressing together as he reached for his circle. 'Think of unsexy things, think of unsexy things' his inner voice cautioned him, trying not to respond to the feel of her hips pressing into his intimately. 'Football, good, Great Aunt Ruby, good, cadavers, ummm, borderline, Apple pie, NO! NO! Bad Gil!' With a strangled gasp, Gil pushed himself backwards, sliding off Sara to land awkwardly on Warrick's back. Warrick, in his pleasurable haze, only vaguely noticed the weight on his back. Along with Catherine's amazing tongue in his ear he could now feel a strong torso pressed against his back, long legs hanging over his and a long hard……………. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? He squealed and scooted out from between Grissom and Cath, mouthing obscenities and trying to banish mental pictures of Griss on his back out of his mind. Oh, man. As Ecklie scowled, Griss frantically muttered excuses, Warrick frantically tried to rub the mental images from his brain, Catherine wondered hazily what was going on and Greg watched on in interest, Sara stood triumphantly and screamed "I WON! I WON!"

Catherine and Greg stumbled out into the backyard, looking for respite from the confusion and flashing lights and Ecklie's heartrending karaoke rendition of 'I Am Woman'. Greg spied the bottle of tequila partially hidden in the long grass. "Ooh, ooh, mine!" he squealed, quickly grabbing a mug from the table. He poured himself a cupful and then reluctantly tipped the bottle into the glass Catherine was waving madly, before dropping it back on the grass. "Ready Cat – on three! One, Two, Thr…oh look, I got the tequila worm!" Cat was busy throwing back her tequila whilst trying to remember the order of things- "lip, sick, stuck……….no click, strip su… Huh?"

"I got the tequila worm, I got the tequila worm!" Greg fished the plump worm triumphantly from his Tequila before tipping his head back and dropping it down his throat with a satisfied gulp.

Catherine nodded politely, "Um Greggo? I don't think this kind of Tequila is s'posed to have a worm in it." Greg blinked, and as one, they swivelled to look at the bottle. Nope, no worms included, but there was a dead cricket bobbing in the bottle, as well as a spider, flailing frantically as it tried to keep afloat. They both digested this in silence. Huh. Grissom wandered out and joined them, tie crooked, glasses askew, a thoughtful look on his face. Catherine broke the freeze frame by carefully inspecting her insect-free cup, then chugging a mouthful before leaning over and licking the angel statue in her yard. Greg's senses finally kicked in and he began to gag. As Greg began to choke and cough and Grissom looked on interestedly, Catherine remembered the order of things and mused, 'Lick… yes, Sip……. Okay, it was a guzzle, but yep, Suck……. Hmmm'. She grabbed Grissom and, with deliberate concentration, began to unbuckle his pants.

Okay I promise to get to Nick in the next chapter- I just got a little distracted. Pls review xoxoxo


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